Melissa M. Dunn 
Srhythm costumes have never been the height of chic. Microwave popcorn bag silhouettes are anything but flattering and don’t get me started on helmets and shoes. But if Elon Musk and a few other star-seeking male billionaires can successfully emulate conventional spacewear, the future of celestial fashion will be more James Bond than Buzz Lightyear. One day, we might even hear someone on Mars yelling, “Who are you wearing?”
Musk, who as the founder of SpaceX dreams of putting a white fence on Mars by 2029, wants his spacesuits to look “badass”. The eccentric entrepreneur turned to Hollywood special effects maestro and costume designer Jose Fernandez, who created wardrobes for Avengers: Age of Ultron and several X-Men films, to refine the look of the costumes worn on his crew dragonMusk’s first trip to the International Space Station in 2020. Note: Musk’s team collaborated with NASA on the engineering design, but he didn’t leave the bells and whistles to aeronautical engineers.
The result? An intergalactic tuxedo. Musk reportedly checked out the formal wear name as inspiration and told Fernandez, “Everyone looks better in a tuxedo, no matter what size or shape.” (Well, one thing Musk and I agree on.) SpaceX’s white spacesuit, with its black accent panels and matching helmet, also nods to a fencing uniform for Bond. , more tailored than baggy. But before you credit Musk for inventing a flattering, form-fitting spacesuit, know that this uniform isn’t meant for exploration outside of a spacecraft, it’s a flight suit. More on this distinction later.
Virgin Galactic founder Sir Richard Branson, a modest septuagenarian Briton who is worth more than $5 billion, prefers a “sexy” version of the spacesuit. He named sportswear giant Under Armor as the “exclusive technical spacewear partner” in a dark blue jumpsuit with gold piping that looks usable for the first Olympian in orbit, but hardly “wow” for a fashion writer . Patented, state-of-the-art fabrics like SpinIt and Nomex regulate moisture and temperature, while UA’s patented Clone material (originally used in a boxing boot) improves knee and elbow flexibility . And, as someone who doesn’t take out their trash without first applying lipstick, I have to applaud the flashy metallic thigh pocket created to “stash personal items.”
This article appears in the summer 2022 issue of Alta Journal.
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Jeff Bezos, who blasted beyond Earth orbit last July on his first Blue Origin mission, has yet to voice his vision for a spacesuit. That’s not shocking considering the 58-year-old founded an online bookstore and once had a penchant for blue oxfords and pleated khakis. His style evolution from accessible geek with daddy curves to buff dude donning Gucci velvet is mostly attributed to his midlife divorce and flashy new girlfriend, entertainment journalist Lauren Sánchez. Maybe she will weigh in on the spacesuit makeover? For the latest Blue Origin jaunt, Bezos’ crew wore shiny royal blue zipper flight suits, which are, in essence, expensive suits with cool patches.
But eventually, the privatization of space will be a good thing for cosmic couture. NASA has long overseen the arc of spacesuit design and technology innovations. In terms of fashion, imagine Coco Chanel reigning over the iconic brand for over a century. New ideas, especially from outside creatives who aren’t hooked on aviation logistics, could freshen up the Apollo model.
Still, you’d think all this talk of spacesuit gender would infuriate engineers and other experts. After all, a real NASA spacesuit — one that can hold up in real space — costs about $250 million to build from scratch, takes 45 minutes to get in, and weighs about 280 pounds. (For comparison, the couture dress designed by Area and worn by gymnast Simone Biles at the annual Met Gala last year weighed 98 pounds.) The garment must protect the wearer from radiation and particles moving at a speed 18,000 miles per hour. It is pressurized and can withstand temperatures ranging from 250 degrees Fahrenheit to -250 degrees Fahrenheit. There’s even a built-in water fountain to hydrate parched astronauts.
It’s literally a life support system on a hanger. Does he also really need sex appeal?
“Some astronauts might think staying alive is sexy,” says Dr. Cathleen Lewis, curator of international space programs and spacesuits at the National Air and Space Museum at the Smithsonian Institution. Lewis has been studying, collecting and preserving space suits for almost 40 years. She can even confirm that NASA sent its Apollo spacesuits to dry cleaners in the 1970s. Lewis admits that compliance in spacesuit design dampens the thrill. “You don’t want to fall into gray flannel suit syndrome,” she says. “You want to excite people about spacesuits and all the possibilities.”
His analogy is perfect. Fashion and space have always been an odd couple. Imagine a transcendent long-legged model in stilettos on the arm of a scruffy scientist in squeaky shoes, you get the idea. Nevertheless, these two opposite polar entities have been winking at each other since the first moon escapade in 1969. Case in point: when Neil Armstrong descended the capsule ladder in a cumbersome A7L spacesuit, the astronaut was wearing a bra fit for Dolly Parton, well, make those 21 layers of stretchy and supportive material.
Give credit to Playtex, the maker of women’s underwear and a division of the International Latex Company, a Delaware-based manufacturing company now known as ILC Dover, which still creates space suits for NASA. The story goes that NASA issued a call in 1961 for companies to bid for the contract to design the first spacesuit. Mobility and flexibility were key. Astronauts had to be able to walk, bend, twist and turn, much like a woman carrying a toddler while wearing a belt. ILC, with the help of engineering designs used at Playtex, won the tender. “The ILC Dover engineers and ladies who designed and sewed the Apollo 11 spacesuits held their breath as they watched Neil Armstrong take his first steps,” says Danielle LaFleur, an engineering technician at the company.
LaFleur, by the way, has a background in suits, like Musk’s designer, Fernandez. At the ILC Dover office in Houston, she’s the voice in the room asking for a certain shade of blue or a distinctive reflective element to wear on the outside (or cover layer) of a spacesuit. “I try to add special touches wherever I can with interesting colors, textures, finishes, logos, hardware, reflective elements and patterns,” she says. Sometimes the accents offered by LaFleur are opposed by the more technical people. She doesn’t back down: “The job of the spacesuit is to keep a person safe and alive in space, so aesthetics will always come second.”
In the world of fashion, where survival depends on timeliness and only reputations die, space-influenced style has long been a staple. In 1964, French designer (and former engineer) André Courrèges unveiled his Space Age collection, which included goggles, PVC skirts and white go-go boots. Space exploration continued to inspire Courrèges throughout the 1960s, and he was eventually rewarded with an invitation to NASA Mission Control at Cape Canaveral. Ralph Lauren’s 1994 Polo Jeans Co. NASA jacket was the literal first take on the astronaut outfit, but Dior design director John Galliano took it a step further during Paris Fashion Week in 2006 , when he wore a high-fashion spacesuit that allegedly disintegrated on Mars. .
Ten years later, streetwear brand Supreme aped the NASA logo for a puffy jacket and made the four-letter government agency the epitome of cool. Since then, brands ranging from Vans skate sneakers to Old Navy to Target have licensed the logo for shoes, t-shirts and even fanny packs. A NASA-emblazoned nylon belt bag from Balenciaga is currently selling for $895; The French brand’s 100% cotton oversized hoodie with NASA patches can be had for just $1,150. “It’s amazing how popular we’ve become when it comes to branding,” says Bert Ulrich, who is NASA’s media liaison and oversees the agency’s collaborations with film and television. . Over the past five years, the number of license applications for the merchandise logo has increased from 20 to 40 each month to 900.
NASA itself could use a refresh. The agency, which has spent more than $420 million developing spacesuits since 2007, continues to face criticism for relying on decades-old designs and missing deployment deadlines. An August 2021 report from its inspector general noted that spacesuits for lunar missions will not be “ready for flight until April 2025 at the earliest”. (The Artemis moon landing originally scheduled for late 2024 has been officially postponed.)
A month later, in response to the report, NASA issued a tender for the contract to design and manufacture the spacesuits. Remember: that’s how ILC got into the game six decades ago. ILC Dover has been NASA’s main supplier ever since. The necessary spacesuits, technically known as exploration extravehicular mobility units, are worn outside of a capsule, unlike the flight suits described above. Still, no matter who wins the contract, the competition among billionaires is good for conveying the overall design. “It’s exciting because right now you have all these new companies, like SpaceX, Blue Origin and Virgin Galactic, that are developing suits for their own spacecraft and specific explorations,” Lewis says.
Apparently, a billionaire also wants to help NASA with their next-gen spacesuit. “SpaceX could do this if needed,” Musk tweeted when the agency released the report last summer. If the costume comes with a built-in martini shaker, we’ll know exactly who to thank. •
